The Meeting Point
by Magical words from Muggle pens
Summary: In the middle of the war, Draco and Hermione meet in secret ... D/Hr: One Shot.


**The Meeting Point**

_"Where there is much light, the shadow is deep"_

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"Homenum Revelio"

The light sparked across the floor, slithering along it crawled up the man's robes, illuminating his dark mask, grey eyes narrowed upon her. With a growl, he stepped out of the shadows, waving his wand over his face, revealing the pale face behind the hideous mask.

"What is your name?" she queried.

"Draco Abraxas Malfoy"

"When was our first secret meeting?"

"Seven months ago, January 13th, at the meeting point."

Satisfied, she pulled back her wand and relaxed. His grey eyes danced over her petite frame in smug amusement. She looked so delicate and tiny with her soft brown curls and pink cheeks, reddened from exhaustion.

"You ought to go into Law Enforcement, Granger," he muttered.

"Oh?"

"Yes, you're scary"

"Hmph"

"I suppose you'll be wanting information"

"That's what we meet for."

"Is that all?"

Her chocolate brown eyes darkened with some other emotion, and the nerve endings in her body tingled with anticipation. She wanted to do something, dangerous and uninhibited - to leap up onto him and take him. Instead, she gripped her wand tighter and continued in a professional tone.

"When's the next attack?"

"In a fortnight. We're raiding the Burrow."

Her spine stiffened.

"Oh"

"Oh," she said again, for want of a filler in the morose silence.

They began to shift away from each other, ready to apparate away from the shadowy spot. But before she could raise her wand, his drawling voice stopped her.

"When I see you again, wear your hair down."

It was what he always said. Every time, right before she would part, he would remind her to wear her hair down. She wondered vaguely what he meant by it.

After all, he barely even looked at her hair during all of their visits. Beyond her eyes, his gaze seemed to flit here and there - as if lost in a dream. Lost in his own musings.

She supposed the voluminous mane covered her face, ensuring anonymity. But he always recognized her.

Dragging herself out of her own thoughts, she merely nodded at him. She would wear her hair down again. She always did.

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She stood in the foyer of the Burrow while the other Order members reviewed their plan. In her hand, she held a scrap of parchment tightly. On it, in choppy long strokes, was just one thing:

_21:00_

It was the time of the attack. She knew. The handwriting was instantly recognizable. She had tossed a multitude of such letters into the fire, for fear of outing him, but the script was burned in her memory.

_April 4th, the meeting point_

_Wear your hair down_

It was the only one she had saved - safely tucked under her mattress. She didn't know why she kept it. It was succinct and mundane. But there was something about, the last four words, that she could not forget.

A loud explosion erupted somewhere upstairs.

Lupin raced towards the stairs, screaming at the top of his longs, "GO!"

Instantly, half of the crowd previously standing just beyond her disapparated. She and four others hesitated, waiting - waiting to fight the intruders. With a pop, a dark cloaked figure appeared in front of her.

"Stupefy!" she screamed, ducking the aim of another Death Eater as the first one fell in paralysis.

"Crucio!" a man yelled.

"Sectumsempra," she hit back.

A dozen stunning spells shot across the room, and she dove behind a toppled table, crawling on her knees toward the pantry door. Right as someone blasted the legs off the table, she flew into the door and hid her head in her hands. She was shaking all over.

"Granger?"

She whirled around. "_Malfoy_?"

He was crouched in the shadow, his pale face ashen and smeared with blood and sweat. His grey eyes looked down at her, unblinking, before he launched at her.

"Are you fucking _stupid_? What the hell are you doing here, you fuckwit?!" he shook her violently.

"Shut up!" she hissed back at him, straining to see if anyone had heard them. "Some of us had to stay back so it wouldn't look like we anticipated the attack."

"Idiot, idiot," he berated her. "Why couldn't any of the other Order members do it. You're only 17!"

"So are you," she reminded him in a quiet voice.

"Yeah ... " he was silent. "Sometimes I don't feel like it."

She closed her eyes for a moment. A man screamed in utter pain.

"Neither do I."

They looked at each other. His hooded eyes fell on her hair, tightly coiled in a bun. He frowned at it, as if disgusted by it. When he turned away, eyes alert for his fellow Death Eaters, she bit her lip. Tentatively, she touched the scar running along her jaw down her neck. It was short but deep. She hadn't had the chance to fetch all the ingredients to properly heal it.

Was he repulsed by it?

Is that why he asked her to leave her hair down?

"Crucio!" a cold voice yelled in the distance.

Shaking her head from inconsequential thoughts, she tensed her body, ready to jump out and curse the Death Eater. Draco's pale hand reached out to still her, but she beat it away and bounded across the room, out of their hiding spot.

"GRANGER!" he roared.

But she was gone, racing to save Tonks from the fiend. When she glanced over her shoulder, he was gone, melting into the faceless masks terrorizing the home.

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She paced back and forth at the meeting point, dread filling her up like a venomous liquid. The rumors had to be a lie, they had to be! He couldn't possibly be dead. He was their only spy, with Snape gone. He had to help them and give them information.

_"I think Malfoy may have been found out," Remus had quietly told her. "I saw Bellatrix - the Killing Curse."_

She blinked back the emotion choking at her throat.

He had to meet her.

He had to.

The meeting point was deserted. The floors were barren, showing no sign that anyone had ever been there. Not that they ever left a mark.

Tears were prickling her eyes.

Draco.

Oh, Draco.

It was all her fault. She had goaded him into deceiving the Death Eaters, guilt-tripped him into compensating for his past mistakes. The tears freely rolled down her cheek, and she cursed herself a thousand times. Dark shadows slowly played across her distressed face.

_Draco .._

With a crack, a masked figure suddenly appeared on the spot.

Exhiliration shot through her, but she restrained herself, shakily asking the question instead, "What is your name?"

He didn't respond, instead advancing toward her in long strides.

Sudden terror gripped her. It wasn't Draco. She had been found out, just like he had.

She raised her wand high above her, ready to hex him, but he was too quick. With a casual flick, he disarmed her.

"Expelliarmus!"

Kicking him in the shins, she raced toward her wand, sheer horror flooding her veins. A hand shot out to halt her.

He twisted her arm behind her back and whispered into her ear, "Mudblood."

She cried out in pain as she felt his mask shift, and chapped lips brush against her cheek. She trembled in fear. His mouth opened over her scar and he traced it with his tongue.

"_No_-stop, stop!" she struggled against him. He was going to _rape_ her.

Open-mouthed, hot kisses followed the scar as it twined around her jaw and rested on her neck. She felt his warm breath over her pulse point, and nearly dropped into a dead faint when he said,

"You wore your hair up."

"What? _What_?" she whispered in shock.

He freed her from his grasp and she whirled around to find grey eyes appraising her from beneath the pale locks.

"Dr-aco?" she cried out, her voice cracking. She flung herself at him, enveloping them in a strong embrace.

His mask was askew, and he ripped it off, wiping his bloodied hand on his robe, and then lifting it to the tendrils escaping the knot in her hair. He touched it reverently.

"When you wear your hair up ... I can't remember what it was like to hate you ... your _face_ - is my worst temptation." he mumbled, as if in self-reproach.

He reached behind her and dragged her head back, baring her face to his gaze.

"You - you told me to wear my hair down so-"

"-So I can keep myself from doing this," he murmured, pulling her face up to meet her lips in a deep kiss. She swayed into him, a million thoughts barraging her at once - each of which fell prey to the soft movement against her mouth.

When he winced, she pulled back, realizing she was clutching his shoulders desperately.

"So you haven't been found out?" she finally asked, out of breath.

He shook his head and dipped down to rest his forehead against hers.

"I thought someone might be watching when I first got here. But we're alone now."

Her hand gripped his painfully as relief flooded her in cooling waves. His lips crossed hers once, then pressed more insistently when she tangled her fingers in his silky hair.

The shadows shifted as the sun inched across the sky. They remained intertwined for a while.

"I suppose you'll be wanting information," he said.

"That's what we meet for."

"Is that _all_?"

They looked at each other in tacit understanding. Her heart thudded in unspoken longing.

"When is the next attack?" she finally spoke.

"In two months, Diagon Alley."

She nodded.

"When I see you again, wear your hair down," he murmured.

Brown eyes lifted to his, keeping her gaze on his as the insidious mask covered him once more.

"I'll be waiting," she whispered.

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**A/N**: oh, angsty one-shots, how I missed thee!

Just something I scribbled (typed - _scryped_?). Let me know what you think ....... Review!


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